


All Too Much

by AutisticConnor



Series: Autistic Connor [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Sensory Overload, alternative title is shutdown in t minus now, autistic!Connor, fucking fight me, i gave connor my corrective echolalia so keep a lookout for that, shutdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 15:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14957235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticConnor/pseuds/AutisticConnor
Summary: For having one of the best processors in the world, Connor is having some problems processing things.





	All Too Much

Today was different.

The first sign was that Connor had to squint longer when he first turned on the lights after Hank woke up. An insignificant and unnoticed detail by others, but Connor knew it meant something.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a few more moments to clear his head. They had the day off, so it would probably be a good day to go out and get the groceries that Hank refused to get. 

Connor opened the fridge to be met with mostly empty shelves. He frowned as he examined the expiration date on the jug of milk. It was going to go bad soon. Hank stumbled sleepily into the kitchen and started rooting around the cabinets like a raccoon.

“I just organized that last night,” Connor said.

“And I’m gonna eat it right now,” Hank grunted, grabbing of the bags of trail mix. “Fuckin’ rabbit food.”

“I haven’t been able to go shopping in a while. I’ll be sure to get something that you like more today.”

There was a very long silence. Had he said something wrong? “Hey Connor, you don’t hate doing that, right?”

He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Well it’s just that I could be doin’ all that stuff, and we spent a long time forcing androids to do it, so I just want to be sure you’re fine with it.”

“I’m perfectly happy to do it.” Connor smiled. “Especially means if you stop slowly killing yourself.

“Yea, yea, go fuck yourself.”

Connor was mostly certain that was meant as a joke. Colloquialisms were so strange. “Is there anything you particularly want?”

“Not fucking trail mix.”

Alright then. Connor took one last inventory of the fridge and cabinets. They were missing quite a few of the things Connor tried to always keep stocked. Oh well, it just meant a slightly longer shopping trip.

He turned to start heading towards the door. “Oh, wait, one thing-” Something brushed against his hand unexpectedly.

The simple touch sent what almost felt like a shot of uncomfortable pain through Connor’s hand. He yanked it back instinctively. Androids didn’t feel physical pain, even deviants. Not like this.

“Connor?” Hank was looking at him quizzically, hand hovering where it had been reaching for his. “You good there?”

“Yes, Lieuten- Hank. Hank. Hank.” Connor felt the need to repeat the word to confirm it was the right one. This prompted Hank to give him an even stranger look.

“O-kay… Listen, Connor, are you sure you still want to go out? You seem kinda out of it.”

He nodded. “I’m perfectly capable of getting groceries. Besides, you’re running out and I don’t want you resorting back to those unhealthy foods.”

“It would only be for a couple days.”

Connor shook his head. “I can do it today.”

“Alright, fine,” Hank sighed. “But I’m comin’ with you this time. I could use the fresh air anyways.”

Hank grabbed his jacket and tugged it on, cursing under his breath when one of the sleeves wouldn’t cooperate. “Jesus Christ... “

“Are you sure you’d like to come with me?” Connor asked. “The store that I go to is pretty far across town.”

“Well why don’t you go to a closer one?”

Connor blinked. “It’s… part of my routine, I guess. It’s nice to see the scenery anyways. You are also aware we’ll be taking the train since your car is in for repairs?”

“Sure, whatever. Just don’t go on another rant about how outdated my car is.”

“Will do.”

Connor grabbed his jacket on the way out the door, frowning at the new, very bad feeling of the fabric against his arms. This was… new. He opted to disregard this for now. The trip would be fairly short anyways.

Walking with Hank was always some sort of what Connor could only call an experience. The man made comments on just about everything he saw. Buildings, faces he happened to recognize, nothing was safe from Hank’s scathing tongue. This time, however, Connor found it oddly difficult to listen to him. Other noises were playing much louder in his ears than they should have been.

He did, however, manage to catch the impressive string of curses that came out of Hank’s mouth as he tripped on one of the steps up to the train.

“You’re going to get charged with disorderly conduct if you keep that up,” Connor said.

“Quit worrying, I’ve said worse much closer to schools.”

Oh good. Such a comforting thought.

Connor squinted once again as they stepped onto the train. Had the lights always glared like this or where they replacements?

He settled into one of the seats alongside Hank, quickly analyzing their surroundings. There was a few other passengers, including a group of teenagers speaking rather loudly about their clubs at school. Something was emitting a smell so strong Connor felt nauseous. Strange. Considering most of his job was to examine dead bodies, he usually wasn't bothered by scent.

When the train started moving, he had to force himself not to cover it ears. It was so loud. He'd been on this train before, why was it so loud?

They kept going. Connor didn't say anything. He almost felt like he couldn't. As they kept going, more and more of the stimuli started almost. Hurting. He ran a check of his system, but the only irregularity was the slowly rising stress levels. Had this jacket always been so abrasive? It felt like there was static forming just under his skin.

It was okay. All he had to do was ride this out and everything would be fine. Connor grit his teeth. Everything would be fine.

It was all becoming far too much. Each sound of nearby conversation and the functioning of the train scraped against his ears like a cheese grater. The cuffs of his jacket scratched at his wrists, hems digging in uncomfortably. Why were the lights so fucking bright? He shoved his hand into his pocket, wincing at the rough feeling of the fabric rubbing against his skin. 

Shit.

Connor didn’t have his coin. How could he have forgotten it? He never forgot anything.

His stress levels were consistently growing but he couldn’t move. All he could do was stare at a spot on the floor of the train and internally scream. Every sensation was painful. Why was this happening?

Something shook Connor’s shoulder and he just… broke. He essentially threw himself onto the train floor out of pure instinct, threading his fingers through his hair and pulling. Connor wanted his coin. He wanted to go home.

“Connor?” Hank. That was Hank’s voice. It was abnormally soft. He’d never heard Hank talk that quietly. “What’s going on?”

Hundreds of responses ran through Connor’s circuits, both truths and lies, but none of them came out save for some strained noises that he failed to properly turn into words.

“Okay, okay. We’re going to get off at the next stop, alright? I won’t touch ya, but you need to get up in three minutes.”

Connor could do that. Probably. He spent the next three minutes blocking out as much stimuli as he could and ignoring the urge to rip out his visual and audio processors. And to tear at his arms until the feeling of the fabric against his skin was gone.

Hank spoke up again. “The train stopped, son.” Yes, Connor had vaguely registered that.

He stood as fast as he could, which was not that fast. All his joints felt stiff and locked into place. Somehow he got off the train before the doors closed without Hank pulling him. The lights weren’t so glaring, and there wasn’t anyone there. Connor’s circuits were firing too quickly for him to correctly process where they were, both through looking around and his GPS system.

“I don’t know what you need, so I’m just gonna stay back and let you have your space for now.”

That was good. Connor could deal with that. He stripped off the jacket, hands shaking. He needed new stimulus to focus on, anything.

“Hey, Connor.” His eyes snapped over to where Hank was standing. He was holding a hand out towards Connor, a shining silver coin laying in it. “You were doin’ the thing with your hands so I thought you might want this.”

Connor slowly reached out, plucking the coin from Hank’s palm with the least amount of contact he could manage. He closed his eyes for a few brief moments, flicking it between his fingers with ease. Things slowly came back into focus after five minutes or so. The tips of Connor’s fingers felt cold, but considering the current weather conditions that was fairly good.

“Are you doin’ okay now?” Hank had leaned against a wall to keep an eye on Connor.

“I think.” It still felt almost painful to speak. Connor had to carefully monitor himself to prevent stuttering.

“What the fuck happened?”

Connor winced. “It… almost felt like a shut down. But I was still conscious. It wasn’t pleasant.” 

Hank moved a bit closer. “How so?”

“I couldn’t m-move.” Connor blinked at the stutter. “Move. Move. Move.” He corrected himself. “It was very strange. My motor functions had shut down but all of my sensory functions had gone into overdrive.” Connor made a mental note that technical speak was much easier. He could distance himself.

“We’re gonna have to talk about that repeating thing later…” Hank mumbled before continuing. “Do you need anything right now?”

Connor almost faltered as he rolled the coin over his fingers. “I’m not sure. This has never happened to me before.”

Hank gave him a sympathetic glance. “Let’s get you home, kid. I’ll survive on what we have and fast food.”

“But-”

“It’s fine, Connor. We’ll get you home and a weighted blanket so you can watch another movie I used to consider terrible and ruin its entire ironic value. That whole thing looked painful. And you look really fuckin’ tired.”

Connor felt tired too. He was forcing every word from his mouth. “Okay.”

“Let’s take the bus. I’ll let you borrow my headphones to block out the noise.” Hank picked up Connor’s discarded jacket and slung it over his shoulder. He made a second mental note to not wear that jacket again. “Let’s go.”

The whole walk to the bus stop was one large disassociation. Connor stared at Hank’s heels the entire time, still fidgeting with the coin. He’d have to return to to Hank soon. He snapped back to reality as he dropped into his seat next to the window and pressed his forehead against it. A slight shuffling sound confirmed Hank was sitting down next to him.

Today was… unpleasant. An event he hoped would never be repeated, but somehow doubted that was the case. Connor’s eyes fluttered shut as his system slipped into sleep mode. He didn’t want to deal with anything else today.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, yea. This was basically a vent fic because I was about to be put into some situations where i'd probably get sensory overload (hint; it happened). This is based off my experiences with shutdowns, so it might be a lil weird.
> 
> Kudos make my day and I can survive for a week on a comment and a single drop of dew.
> 
> Come check out my Detroit blog over @autistic-connor. Send me headcanons or questions, I'm up for it.


End file.
